


Pining away for you

by Ziane



Series: Through thick and thin [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:51:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziane/pseuds/Ziane
Summary: A week apart is enough to turn a simple phone call into something else; into what they crave at night when they cannot drown into each other's body.





	Pining away for you

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to write McReyes in the past and nothing came out, but CaptainNeedsNoSleep showed me a sketch for the kinktober and gave me the prompt, challenging me to give it a go. This is it (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ and I must say I am very, very pleased at how it turned out.
> 
> Please, enjoy some McReyes smut and be ready for more !
> 
> Also, please go give her some love on [tumblr](url) and the beautiful, amazing art that inspired this.

>

It was supposed to be a check-up call; a _what are you doing, darlin’? I miss you badly_ kind of thing, but when has Jesse McCree been able to resist that honeyed voice that speaks of sins when it comes from that man. Not even the distorted way his voice comes out from the device forbids his body to get an instant boner as soon as Gabriel greets him with a raspy, sexy voice that suggests he has slept too much or that he hasn’t even gone to bed yet. Their bed. That has been missing one of them for the past week while he’s stuck in this damned recon mission. They always make time for each other, for a fast fuck at two AM in a darkened office or for a whole day of lovemaking between tumbled sheets stained with lube, sweat, and cum. McCree loves both as long as it is with him. He is up to the most dangerous mission or the most enticing pleasure and the sweetest of tortures. That is Gabe favorite though, to turn him into a sore mess, to touch, and lick, and suck every single inch of his skin until he aches for more, until he begs, purrs, and growls his desperation. McCree knows his reward is always there, that he has to endure whatever Gabriel demands, whatever he asks like the most dutiful lover and then, then McCree takes him, sinks himself in the depths of his body and soul, and fucks him to his heart’s content. It works wonderfully because they know where the other stand; because the stupid casual fucking and the rough play turned into I-fucking-love-you without them noticing.

Then Gabe wanted to see him, not just a voice call, and he had to answer wearing no sweatpants. He had to tempt him, had to show off and elicit that low, dangerous purr at the other side of the line as soon as he turned the camera on and he deliberately pointed at both, his face and his muscled torso hugged by a Blackwatch shirt. Gabe is weak for it. He can spend hours sucking, and kissing, and nibbling his fuzzy chest before he is ready to move on. McCree delights in those moments, feeling worshiped and cared for beyond anything he’d felt in his life before. He blushes just thinking about it, how Gabe cups and squeezes his chest, how his goatee and stubble scratches his skin at the same time the heat of his mouth draws out of him the most shameful noises. Tonight, his dark chocolate eyes will be the ones that will rivet his body in the distance instead of his tongue. And it’s been a long call so far; he rolled his shirt up and kicked his boxers off five minutes in.

“Are we good?” Gabriel asks with a sultry voice and a taint of mischief, goading him to say yes, to push a little further.

“Yeah,” he gasps roughly, his cock in a tight, slippery grip. He checks the angle on the screen, his arm is tired, but he looks so hot like this, a little perspiration coating his skin, the dim light enhancing the soft ridges of his muscles. Gabe must be hard just by what he can see and not touch.

“Go again. Start slowly, as I would do it.” When Gabriel Reyes gives an order in the battlefield he barks at you, but in the bedroom, he charms you. He growls the same commands in a voice that clouds your judgment. It’s not that you _have_ to obey but you _want_ to. Surrendering to him, McCree forbids his hips to buck into his hand and loosens the fist. A long stroke up, painfully slow, until he cups the leaking tip with the palm, then down again, to the root, twisting slightly to the right. “That’s it, all the way,” Gabe says, suppressing a moan. “You got a big cock.”

“All yours, darlin’,” McCree flirts, distracting himself from the coiling desire wanting to be unleashed. Gabriel is so glad the phone points at his face, and cock, and everything in between. He misses Jesse’s cuddles in the morning, like a big puppy wrapped around him and making leaving the bed the hardest task of the day. If it takes too long, they indulge in more sex, seems like the insatiable rascal never has enough of him. Neither does Gabe. The half-smile on the screen distracts Gabriel for a second, relishing in how sweet and shameless McCree is sometimes, even if he’s at the brink of orgasm and has been for…

“How many?”

“Three… so far,” McCree gasps, clear droplets running down his shaft and knuckles. He cannot remember the last time he was steel-hard like this, but after a week without Gabe and pitiful jerk offs in the shower this is fucking heaven. Not Gabe’s-tight-hole heaven, but the best he can get tonight.

“Give me another one.”

It’s not a suggestion. It was his idea after all. McCree strokes himself with renewed energy, knowing it’s for nothing, but he obeys regardless, pumping his hard cock in a tight fist, losing control of his hips which buck up in a dangerous rhythm that if he isn’t careful, could send him over the edge. They’ve done it before, the sweet torture Gabe likes is just like this; feels better when he does it, when McCree has no control at all. That’s why, even if he knows when he has to stop, right when his balls draw up tight and his cock is tense and ready to shoot his load he waits for Gabe to tell him, to read him.

Gabriel’s mouth waters at the sight, at how reverent and tender the man on the other side of the line fulfills all his wet dreams willingly. Jesse McCree walks, talks, and looks unadulterated sex. He recognizes the frantic movements of his hips, the spurt of pre-cum that leaks on his navel and follows a sinuous path of fuzz and muscles to wet the bedding. McCree’s breath seizes for a moment, and before the low groan that follows up happens. “Stop,” Gabriel says gruffly, reveling in how tough must be for Jesse to stop, his hand shaking and then gripping his thigh, digging his fingers on it, his hips bucking into thin air for a relief that won’t come. Instead of the groan, there is a needy wail coming out of his lungs. “You’re so good to me,” he encourages, his voice comforting, the praise going right to McCree’s heart and cock. “Breathe,” he reminds him and McCree chuckles softly.

He is a big mouth, but in moments like this, he struggles to find the words. “Ya’ gonna let me come?” The hearty chuckle at the other side clenches his stomach in fear and pleasure, and McCree flicks his eyes up to watch the screen, finding a devilish grin that curls his spine. Who would’ve thought those late-night sparring sessions would come to this? Working together, living at the base, sharing sparse moments that became more common every day until they were routine. Not a coffee mug but two, one for him and one for Gabe, training ends with a smoke outside in the sunset, coming back from a mission ends with a -not at all sexual- shared shower in which he took more than one glance at his commander. It happened so casually he didn’t realize he was falling in love. He didn’t even have time to feel miserable for being all soft down on Gabe when it would probably lead to nothing. Until that night of rough sparring when he tackled him down on the canvas and the shared chuckle ended up in a wet, sweaty, long kiss that sped up his heart, stole his breath, and made him come in his pants. McCree still blushes when he remembers _that_ happened. Gabe kissed him back, that sinful tongue matched his voice like a twin, gliding along his lips, assailing his mouth, drinking his moans as he came unexpectedly, grinding against the hard marble of his thigh. The commander kept kissing him for what felt like hours, rutting against him like a teenager until both were brave enough to look into each other’s eyes and speak aloud without words. They needed none, not that night nor the many more that followed. Once he tasted the wonders of Gabriel Reyes’ mouth, he diagnosed himself as a lost cause.

“Shit,” McCree curses, dropping the phone onto his chest and listening to the muffled laugh of Gabe while he repositions and stretches his numb arm along the bed, shifting comfortably to offer the best view. They’re not nearly done yet.

So, it is really a silly question how did they end up like this. “You’re gorgeous, Jesse,” he says, unable to suppress a ragged breath, his voice dropping to an intent whisper full of lust that gets inside McCree’s brain and goes right to his cock. Every. Single. Time. Gabriel flicks his tongue over his dried-up lips, his right hand resting high up his thigh, his thumb stroking playfully the engorged head of his cock over his trousers. It’s barely a tickle, but enough to make him ache for him even more. As much as he enjoys driving him mad like this, he misses his touch, his scent after a long day when he is even too tired to take a shower and falls at his side with his clothes still on. “Again,” Gabriel breathes out.

McCree’s moans come out low through the device, he can barely hear them but he knows they’re there. Gabriel swoons at the sight of him, of his heaving chest and hooded lids matching flushed cheeks. The corner of his mouth twitches upward when he remembers the first time he found himself staring at Jesse and thinking he was the most charming, beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. Besotted. It was a realization he hadn’t had until then, and he wondered how hadn’t he noticed before how sweet his features are, how gentle his eyes, and how there’s an adorable dimple hidden by a stubble whenever he smiles. His heart leaped, his breath seized and, even though he was old enough to be over a fucking crush in less than five minutes, it stuck with him for so long he thought there was no cure for this sickness. Sighing for the cowboy in the halls, worrying too much out in missions, waking up hard after a wet dream starred by an outstanding Jesse McCree.

“Gabe,” he whimpers, a clear spurt leaking from his cock right into the glistening pool at his stomach, his hand moving slowly but surely in a too tight fist along the slippery shaft.

“Keep going.” A pitiful moan comes out of Jesse. “Don’t come yet.” McCree writhes, his hips rocking shyly, his hand tense, the muscles of his arm flexing, the ones on his stomach ready for a slide of Gabe’s tongue along them, to lick that tasty mess he’s making of himself between pre-cum and sweat. Gabriel groans loudly, palming himself over his trousers, gripping his strained cock and trying to find the will not to take it out heavily into his hand and get off watching him.

The commander with a crush. On Jesse McCree no less, a shameless flirt, a guy who shoots first and asks later, and also the best agent he has trained and the only one he called a friend. That’s what he thought they had, a friendship, like the one he has with Jack, something common in the military life where your teammates are your family. A drink, a smoke, dinner together, missions together, sharing the room occasionally, the showers... The boy is easy like Sunday morning. He craved his company more than he could admit to himself those days, reveling in every time he heard: “Hey, Gabe, you got a smoke?” He tried to be grumpy, but that dopey smile crept up his face whenever he saw Jesse McCree’s smile. He still does, but now he doesn’t care anymore. He lived on his unrequited love for too long, feeling sorry for himself and trying to get over the guy confessing it to Jack. He laughed at him for five minutes straight and patted him on the back. That’s what old friends are for, to be there for you, to love you even when you fall in love with your twenty-years-younger-than-you subordinate. And fucking Jackie told him to go for it, but he chickened out.

Gabriel realizes he has his mouth open at the feast in front of his eyes. One he cannot taste. McCree fucks into his hand with an expertise he knows by heart because that’s exactly how he pounds into him when they fuck. “Please,” he whimpers, lunging in short thrusts barely coordinated. It would be easier if he were there, if it were his hand around him, the other nestling his balls so he knows when he’s ready.

“Stop, Jesse,” Gabriel whispers, wetting his lips again. McCree grips tightly his hilt and lets out a sob of frustration while he fixes his eyes on the screen and that sinful tongue gliding across Gabe’s bottom lip. How he wished it was his!

“Mean bastard,” he jokes. He’d bite him.

“You know what to say if it’s too much.”

“It ain’t my time, darlin’,” he brags, catching his breath and funneling his sexual frustration because he wants to do it right, wants to be good for Gabe because an orgasm is even better if Gabe demands it from him. A week of sad hand jobs was proof enough, and he doesn’t want just a late-night sex phone call, he wants the mind-blowing orgasms only Gabe coaxes out of him. He caresses his balls, weights them in his hand and relaxes for another round. As many as Gabe wants and as many as he can take.

At first, McCree didn’t understand why their fast fucks weren’t enough anymore, why they spent increasing time together in bed, playing around; too much foreplay, he naively thought. What a fool! The fact that he was ready to fuck hard -and what he thought long- whenever he got his paws on Gabe was just the tip of the iceberg. Gabriel showed him a kind of sex he hadn’t known until then. The kind that shakes your world, wounds your soul, and lifts yourself to heaven in the process. And also dooms all the sexual encounters for you in the future too. Soon, he realized it was because of him, Gabe, and the rush that always faded after a few encounters with past lovers became an unstoppable wave that flooded his senses every time. Still is. Because he fell in love and let it grow without noticing. McCree never left his bed after, didn’t even try, Gabriel never asked him to leave, wouldn’t even let him. They craved each other for more than sex and found relief in each other’s arms.

“Are you hard?” McCree asks, his hand returning courageously to wrap around the root of his cock for another push. A row of predatory white teeth stands out in the darkness of his face. McCree can barely see him in a poorly illuminated room and with the camera pointing closely at his face and neck, but he knows he is there, in their bed, mussing the sheets alone and awfully dressed. “Show me,” he drawls with a wolfish grin.

Gabriel checks the hour in his wristwatch -bad habit- and chuckles because he cannot remember the last time he had phone sex, much less the last time it was as good as this. He points the front camera of the pad to the bulge in his groin and palms himself again. His hand strokes roughly his jutting erection while he listens to McCree’s loud grunt. “Miss me?” Gabriel teases, his thumb pushing and rubbing against the tip, risking a stain on his trousers because it’s steaming hot and damp inside the underwear. But he doesn’t have the time, and even if he did, he would wait for the rascal to make his wait worthwhile. McCree, on the other hand, is on his death throes.

“You don’t know how bad I want you in my mouth, Gabe,” McCree grunts.

“Would you get off blowing me?” Gabriel asks, the camera back to point at his face and neck, right on time to catch a smirk.

“Ya’ bet, darlin’,” he drawls. “I will suck you real good, choke on your cock until you can’t take it anymore.” Gabriel breathes out his lust, his cock jerks inside his trousers. Until Jesse kissed him, he never thought he would want him. He would’ve lived feeding from their first fuck for the rest of his life and die a happy man, but after that, there was no way to stop or reconsider. They were too deep in and starved for more. Those were an exhausting couple of months in which he fucked more than in the past five years. Damn Jesse McCree and his big cock, tempting him at every chance with no kind of self-control, as though he didn’t even know what the thing was. And he did no better either, Gabriel pushed him for more, for longer, for deeper, for harder. He likes it desperate and rough and that was Jesse McCree’s default fucking.

“Promises, promises.” A shared chuckle makes them feel as though they were together in the same bed. Except they’re not.

“Why don’t you take that out and cum with me?” Jesse drawls in a sultry voice he finds hard to resist.

“I’m gonna wait for you,” Gabriel says, the corner of his mouth pulling upward in a withheld smile. He’s not jerking off alone with a pad in his hand, he put those times behind him a long time ago and he wants nothing less than McCree’s cock. Picky bastard he is.

“Tell me what ya’ want me to do.” McCree understands; that Gabe wants to wait until they’re together turns him into an impatient mess. Two more days and he’ll be there pinning him to the mattress and fucking his brains out. He will give Gabe whatever he wants and more, taking it up a notch by Jesse McCree.

“Now I want you to touch yourself again.” McCree does, his thumb caressing the underside while his hand follows a leisurely path up his cock. “I want you to come hard and long thinking about me.”

“Like every night, darlin’.” He steals a half-smile from Gabe. “Talk to me, I ain’t gonna last,” he gasps. McCree swears by God he can cum untouched by Gabriel’s voice caressing his ears and curling up his stomach nice and warm.

“Come whenever you want,” Gabriel teases, watching attentively McCree’s hand running up and down his length. He knows how hard he is, cursing every single moment they’re apart and this damn idea that will haunt his days and nights until Jesse gives him what he needs: an unforgettable fuck that will leave him sore but sated. Until then, he’ll be a randy mess. “But when you come, I stop talking.” McCree’s hand stills in a tight grip, squeezing the tip while clear droplets run down his knuckles.

“Dammit,” he curses, a veil of sweat drenching his skin, his chest heaving in unison with his ragged breath.

“You don’t stop either,” Gabriel says and watches with a mischievous smile how McCree pumps his cock in slow long strokes. Perfect. “I miss you,” he whispers.

“Me too.”

They don’t say I love you often, but Gabriel needs him to know how badly he wants him not only for the sex but for his body against him just for the sake of it. “What I miss the most is your breath on my nape.” It’s not like he’s getting all sappy now when he is missing nothing of McCree’s struggle trying to fuck his hand as slowly as he can -and failing miserably-. He keeps his eyes closed, listening to his voice and pouring a blue streak of little moans at the other side of the line. “And not just that…” he breathes out warm and hot as though he could caress McCree’s skin. “… I want your thick cock shoved deep up my ass.” McCree lets out a strangled moan. His eyes fixed on his glorious cock. “I want to be on my fours, and you to pound me into the mattress, your whole body against my back, you besting me roughly and good just how you know I like it.”

“Yes, damn,” McCree whines, speeding up his movements against his better judgment. “What else?”

“I want you to grip my ass and fuck into it as fast and hard as you can.” Gabriel swallows thickly, his mouth dry, his breath hitching. “Like that time…”

“… on your desk,” McCree interrupts. “Like I could forget, darlin’.”

“Just like that, you were spectacular. Breathing on my neck and your hands leaving bruises I wore for a week. I don’t care if you come in a minute or twenty but I wanna come around your big, hard cock, so you better deliver first.” He cups his crotch and moans loudly. McCree loves it, his hand and hips working in unison to drive him to the brink of orgasm and beyond, where there is no going back anymore.

“Gabe.” A plea that goes right to Gabriel’s neglected cock.

“Then I want you to come inside me.” His voice is a low whisper as though anyone could hear when he is sitting in the darkness of his quarters. “I want you to give me everything you’ve got and fill me to the brim.” A loud groan follows. “You’re breathtaking.” He is, Gabriel’s breath seizes. “Come for me, Jesse…” Now it’s his time to plead for the intent rush of watching Jesse McCree climaxing just for him.

McCree moans and whines, his hips bucking up frantically and his hand wrapping tightly his cock. His voice is a chant made in heaven that lures him seamlessly to the very end of his orgasm. He comes, as promised, hard and long. White spurts of cum paint his stomach beautifully and drip down his knuckles. His cock jerks in his hand while he milks himself dry, wishing it was Gabe’s ass clenching around him and not the damp palm of his hand. “Gabe…” he comes with his name on his lips and a heart swelled by the many times he wants to say I love you and he doesn’t, not wanting to scare Gabe away.

“I would love to lick you clean,” Gabriel teases, watching how McCree’s cock goes soft and disappears into his hand and a hood of skin. Well spent even though not well fucked. But Jesse will get a good night sleep, regardless. McCree rolls to a side, his come smearing the bedding, his dopey smile and sleepy face hoarding the screen. Gabriel smiles and forgets about the hard cock straining his trousers. “My pretty boy.”

“All yours.” The familiar rumble of his breathing and the hooded lids betray McCree, trying to stay awake when he’s about to fall asleep. “M’sorry I ain’t -he yawns adorably- there with you.”

“Come back soon and make it right.” Gabriel stands with a grunt, picking up the dog tags from the nightstand lamp and sliding them over his head. “Sweet dreams, Jesse.”

“You too, Gabe,” he mumbles, smiling one last time to the camera before he hangs up the call. He would love to clean him up, to force him to drink some water, and cradle his limp body between his arms for the rest of the day. Stupid distance taking away the best part.

Gabriel chuckles softly, leaving the pad abandoned on a side of the bed. Only Jesse McCree would forget that it is night time there but for him, it’s six in the morning and he has a debriefing in fifteen minutes. He grabs a pack of cigarettes on his way out and checks the hour on his wristwatch, deciding a coffee and a smoke is exactly what he needs to get rid of the cockstand he sports who anyone with two eyes in the face could notice. But the sunrise always reminds him of Jesse, on how the light seeps through the strands of his hair and bathes them into promises of sore muscles and a room that smells of sex and themselves.

Just five more minutes of Jesse McCree lingering in his mind and heart and he will start the day, Gabriel lies to himself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it !  
> (ؑ‷ᵕؑ̇‷)◞✧  
> Be ready for a follow-up on the 14th because we all want to know what happens when McCree comes back, right? (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄


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